Finding History
by islndgurl777
Summary: Arthur keeps getting reincarnated, but Merlin can never save him from dying. He's given up trying to find him because he doesn't want to watch Arthur die again.


A/N: Many thanks to my bestie/beta Kaitlyn for running this through the ringer and giving it a title before I posted it.

Finding History

After _The First Time_, Merlin was too late to save Arthur again. He really hadn't thought his king, his _friend_, would return so soon. He was too busy still mourning his passing when Arthur was reincarnated. By the time Merlin found Arthur (and Gwen, and Gwaine, and Leon, and all the others), Morgana had already been betrayed by Uther and Arthur. The seeds of hate had already been sown, and worse this time, because Merlin hadn't been there to assuage Arthur's prattiness. That time Morgana killed Arthur herself. Merlin held his king as he died that time as well, and discovered that Arthur had known about his past life. He'd dreamt of it his whole life, though it was only in his last moments that he realized it was all real. It was only in his last moments that he fully remembered _everything_.

Gwaine died in the same battle that killed Arthur, though all the others survived. Merlin stayed to see if anyone else remembered their past lives, and their situations were the same as Arthur's: they dreamt about their pasts, but only remembered everything as _real_ in their last moments.

The second time Merlin found the others, they were all quite young. It was easy enough to integrate himself into the group, again as Arthur's servant. Though he could have used his magic to appear on an equal social level with Arthur, Merlin thought working as a servant was more to his advantage, so he never tried to gain more social standing.

Many times the others joked about how it was as if Merlin had been with them from the beginning. That time around Merlin made sure to keep an eye on Morgana, but Mordred was the one to kill Arthur. Once more, Merlin's king remembered his previous lives only as he was dying in his servant's arms.

Throughout the next several reincarnations, several details stayed the same. First, Arthur was always a prat. Admittedly, he always got better over time, but his personality was pretty consistent. Meaning Merlin could always count on Arthur to have an air of prattishness about him and expect him to gain enemies because of it.

Second, Arthur was charismatic and a natural leader. Thus, he was always in a position of some power and importance. However, he had yet to be in a position as high as he'd been in Camelot.

Third, the same group of people always found their way to each other. Morgana and Gwen were usually the closest to Arthur, though sometimes he and Gwen were not together when he died. He always had his friends and confidants from the Round Table, though Gaius never showed up another time. Unfortunately, even with all these positive details, this also meant Arthur's enemies tended to pop up again and again as well.

The most important detail he found was that Arthur always remembered his previous lives right before he died.

The frustrating thing was that fate was never consistent about who would take Arthur's life each time. By the time the twentieth century rolled around, Sophia, Cenred, and Helios had each killed him once; Nimueh, Morgause, Mordred, and Agravaine, twice; finally, Morgana had killed him a grand total of four times. No matter what Merlin did, no matter what circumstance he changed, Morgana always turned on Arthur in the end.

By his early twentieth century incarnation, Merlin was prepared to save Arthur from every one of his previous enemies.

That was the time Arthur died from an infected wound on a battlefield in Europe.

Merlin took that as a sign that Arthur was always meant to die young, no matter what he did. He took care of an enemy and another came forth. He took care of all of them, and disease took Arthur's life.

Society took a turn for the better during the second half of the twentieth century, so Merlin never really worried Arthur was needed. Not like he worried during the Crusades, or the Chinese rebellions, the colonization of the Americas, or either World War. He didn't bother to look for Arthur when Hitler rose to power and started invading the rest of Europe. It was too heartbreaking. Of course, there were other countries that may have needed Arthur, but Merlin had a feeling he wouldn't turn up there.

Then again, Merlin wasn't really inclined to go looking for him either.

People were inclined to fix their own problems, Merlin found, and he was happy to leave them to it. Especially after all the work he'd done to help Arthur achieve a time of peace and prosperity and failing every time.

About a decade into the twenty-first century, Merlin moved back to Camelot—or as close to Camelot as he could remember. The land had changed over 1500 years; nothing was as it used to be.

He was in the guise of a young man again, having tired of the itchy beard and creaky bones he'd been wearing as Dragoon for the last several decades. He'd enrolled at the local university, more out of a need to cure his boredom and loneliness than a need for an actual degree.

Suddenly, one fall morning he shot up in his bed for not particular reason.

Well, he knew the reason. His magic was…singing. Bursting through his body, with the kind of energy he couldn't ever remember feeling. Not even _The First Time_ around.

Two hours later, he met Gaius again for the first time in 1500 years.

His old mentor was a professor this time around, but the most astonishing thing was Gaius _recognized_ Merlin. No one else had ever recognized him before. Sure, they always felt a sense of familiarity when it came to Merlin, but no one had ever _really_ remembered him. But Gaius was there, and he did. He _knew_ him, _remembered_ him, and apparently always had.

They spent the afternoon catching up, and Merlin told his old mentor about everything he'd been through since Arthur died at Avalon. He thought, with the confessions lifted from his shoulders, the vibrating feeling of his magic might lessen.

The feeling only intensified overnight and was accompanied by a ringing sound in his ears. It awoke Merlin at three in the morning, loud and irritating enough to keep him awake for the rest of the night.

On his way to class the next morning, Merlin stopped by his favorite coffee shop for a pick-me-up. He was looking down, rubbing his temples to alleviate the headache, when someone rammed into his shoulder on their way out the door.

"Oi, watch where you're going, friend!" Merlin snarled, looking up and dropping his hands to his sides.

Blue eyes caught his and Merlin's breath hitched. "Do I know you?"

"Uh…I'm Merlin," he said shakily, extending his hand forward in an echo of the distant past.

Blue Eyes' lips quirked and his eyes glittered at him. "So I don't know you?"

"No," Merlin answered cautiously, dropping his hand.

"Yet you called me 'friend'?"

Merlin couldn't breathe. "That was my mistake."

"Yes, I think so," Blue Eyes leaned closer, biting his lip.

Merlin recited his line as if it had happened yesterday. "Yeah, I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass."

Blue Eyes burst out laughing. "I rather think _you_ were the ass this time around, _Mer_lin." But he gripped Merlin's shoulder tightly and pulled him into a hug. "Come on, idiot, let's find the others and get to work."

When they pulled apart Merlin realized the ringing in his ears was gone, and he felt better than he had in fifteen hundred years.

Arthur had finally found _him_.


End file.
